


On your love (get drunk on your love)

by larrycaring



Series: Drunk In Love [2]
Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: AU, Adult Harry, Adult Louis, Adult Niall, Alcohol, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Drinking, Fluff, Fluff and Humor, Fluffy Ending, M/M, it's all happy and not heavy stuff, please remember to drink with moderation, soul mates, twin flames
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-26
Updated: 2018-05-26
Packaged: 2019-05-14 03:32:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,919
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14761802
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/larrycaring/pseuds/larrycaring
Summary: “I’m never letting Louis drink ever again,” Harry declares solemnly.“What 'appened now?” Niall asks, already chuckling without even having heard the story.As casually as he can, Harry replies, “Louis got drunk and tried to set our marriage certificate on fire, saying, ‘Good luck trying to return me without the receipt.’”





	On your love (get drunk on your love)

**Author's Note:**

> Hiya, I'm back with that series.
> 
> You can totally read this fic independently from the other one.
> 
> I never planned to make a sequel, but thanks to [Maddie](https://twitter.com/ts4deluxe/status/999705478438371328)... Well, here I am now.
> 
> The story is inspired by an incorrect quote that I've seen floating around and that I added to my Larry [thread](https://twitter.com/larrycaring/status/999704537089957888). (I am not sure where this quote originally comes from, so if anyone knows, please let me know. Though I think it was made by some person on internet and it just went viral, ha.)
> 
> Thank you also Liz (twitter: [@Dont_Stop_Larry](https://twitter.com/Dont_Stop_Larry) // AO3: [Dont_Stop_Larry](http://archiveofourown.org/users/Dont_Stop_Larry)), as always, for being my beta.
> 
> Once again, remember to drink with moderation. Be safe, be sensible, be responsible. Love.
> 
> Title lyrics from the song Drunk on Your Love, by Brett Eldredge.

“I’m never letting Louis drink ever again,” Harry declares solemnly.

“What 'appened now?” Niall asks, already chuckling without even having heard the story.

As casually as he can, Harry replies, “Louis got drunk and tried to set our marriage certificate on fire, saying, ‘Good luck trying to return me without the receipt.’”

“Ah jaysus,” Niall exclaims, a boisterous laughter cutting his sentence. “I need the whole story, mate.”

Harry lets himself fall against the couch, sighing.

**

Louis and Harry have plenty of friends, all right. But sometimes, they can’t deny that they like to stay home and enjoy an evening just between the two of us. And let’s say that it’s not uncommon that they’d open a bottle of wine and drink it together.

However, Harry should have thought about keeping an eye on how many drinks Louis served himself.

His husband had a stressful week, that he had. Harry had spent the past few days trying to destress Louis as much as he could. He even gave him two or three massages, and had run him a bath with an expensive bath bomb and many bubbles. Louis had shown himself very grateful every time, but the stress was still present on his face, the weight of his responsibilities clearly still on his shoulders.

And so Louis, even if he does like to have fun when going out and drink, doesn’t _always_ get completely wasted. At least, not ugly wasted. It happens, sure, but he’s gotten more responsible over the years. Harry sometimes feels more ashamed by his own drunken behaviour, but Louis is a good husband and promises to never hold him accountable for it.

Either way, Louis had quite a week, and therefore he’s relaxing now in the arms of his loving husband. In his hands a very nice bottle of wine, a bottle he almost drunk on his own. Harry didn’t have a problem with that, but when some words pronounced by Louis started sounding erroneous, Harry thought he ought to stop him. Needless to say, Louis had whined at that, and kicked Harry in the shins to express his disagreement. Harry let it pass.

And now Louis is babbling about some controversial topic Harry never knew he had an opinion on, and apparently Louis has _a lot_ to say — wasted Louis tends to get very talkative, depending on how many drinks he's had.

“And dis is why ah think it’s bullshit,” Louis exclaims, tone grave and an adorable frown of unhappiness on his face. He expresses his discontent by gesturing with his hands, and he almost knocks Harry’s own drink over in the process. Harry puts his glass down on the coffee table just in case.

He’s about to respond with something but stops himself when Louis’ eyes go wide. He looks like he just got struck by an idea. Harry is only a little scared.

“We should play monopoly!”

Harry didn’t expect that, but then again, it made total sense. Something he loves about Louis is the gift he has where he can jump from one topic to another one, completely and utterly different, in a matter of seconds. And he does that sober. So when he he’s had one too many? It’s even worse. And funnier.

“Monopoly?” Harry asks with an eyebrow raised, just to be sure he’s heard right.

“Yeah,” Louis answers on his ‘duh’ tone. “Come on,” he urges Harry, clapping a hand on his knee a little too forcefully. “Get the board out.”

Harry has no idea where they fucking put the game, but Louis is tipsy, and when Louis wants something, he wants it now. He’s like a child, really. Sometimes — most of the time — it's hard for Harry to remember that his husband is older than him. Who says age is the same as maturity?

After fifteen minutes of him looking through that part of the closet they don’t often go through, he manages to find the game. Louis cheers way too loudly at that, and he genuinely looks and sounds like an eager kid.

This Monopoly session is going to be a total disaster. Harry just knows it.

And Harry was right.

They’ve been playing for ten minutes only, but to Harry it feels like an eternity already. Louis had snatched another bottle from the kitchen, much to Harry’s dissension, but Louis said he was only taking one last glass of wine and he was done. That was two glasses ago.

So the whole thing essentially starts when Harry takes Louis’ glass away.

Surprisingly, Louis doesn't express too much disgruntlement when Harry does. The latter may have waited for the perfect opportunity to act, when Louis was too busy moving his pawn on the board, tongue sticking out in concentration while he was counting — he is so lousy at mathematics when he drinks, it’s really entertaining.

But eventually, the dissatisfaction arises in Louis when Harry buys his first hotel. Louis doesn’t like to lose, and he hasn’t been very lucky so far when it came to his investments. It probably has to do with the fact that Louis isn't currently at his best when it comes to thinking. Harry truly doesn't know why Louis thought it was a good idea to play this game out of all the games possible right now, but here they are.

“Wait, can I change my token?” Louis asks out of nowhere when it’s Harry’s turn to play.

Harry narrows his eyes, not even controlling the smile creeping on his face. “Why?”

“Can I, or not?” Louis inquires again, sending a glare to Harry. His fringe is falling over his eyes, making him look more adorable than anything else.

Harry huffs a laugh, gesturing for him to go ahead. “Sure, baby.”

“Don’t ‘baby' me,” Louis mumbles way too endearingly, throwing his pawn away and taking a look at the other choices. "You're trying to ruin me. I’m going to buy every property I land on, and you'll send me all your cash, all right?”

Harry purses his lips as for not to laugh.

Louis shows him his new token with a proud expression on. “I’m a bad T-Rex now. You can't beat me.”

Harry nods, trying to appear as frightened as possible. “Mm-mmh.”

When it’s Louis’ turn to play, Harry takes his phone out and can't help but tweet his thoughts away. He knows if he expresses them to Louis, the latter’s competitive side is only going to be aggravated somehow.

 **@Harry_Styles** : You can tell far too much about a person by which monopoly piece they play as.

A few seconds later, there are replies coming in like crazy, including one from Niall.

 **@NiallOfficial** : @Harry_Styles Is this about Louis? I hope he’s losing.

“Harold,” Louis calls out sharply, efficiently making Harry put his phone away. “It's your bloody turn.”

Harry eyes the board, noticing that Louis seems to have landed on the jail case.

“Are you in jail? And you didn't even cheat and got away?”

Louis makes a face, scrunching his nose and squinting his eyes. He even groans. “Excuse me, I do not chea'.”

“You do.”

“I don’t.”

“You really do.”

And the game only gets worse from there. Soon, Louis is yelling in clear frustration, accusing Harry of things that he is clearly not guilty of.

“I ‘ate this game, 'n I ‘ate your spoiled-rich ass,” Louis declares, crossing his arms over his chest, but not before hitting one of Harry’s hotels with a finger. He is pouting now. Harry wants to cuddle him. “And I am _so_ divorcing you, just watch.”

Harry starts laughing. “Just because I won?”

Louis widens his eyes comically, as if Harry had committed the worst crime ever. “Because you didn’t let me win! What kind of husband material is that?”

“Oh, I am sorry," Harry fake apologises, barely able to speak through his giggles. Dear Lord, his husband is fucking ridiculous, but he loves him so fucking much.

“Oh, you will be,” Louis huffs, suddenly getting off the ground. They were sitting crossed-legs on their fluffy white carpet, by the fireplace. The scenery truly is worthy of a grand romantic moment when you think about it.

But here is Louis, always the dramatic one, true to himself. Harry couldn’t love him more.

Louis throws himself on the couch, almost knocking his leg into the coffee table.

“Oh my god, Lou,” sighs Harry, promptly getting up. “All right, stay put, yeah?”

Miraculously, Louis listens, looking like a grounded child when they don't get their way. His legs are under him, arms crossed over his chest, and an apparent sulking pout on his face.

Harry cleans the living room as fast as he can, taking away their glasses, especially the ones with wine in them. He takes another glass out of the cupboard and fills it with water.

When he goes back to the other room, he goes to hand it over to his husband, only to find him standing by the fireplace once again, his back facing Harry. But he ... Louis has something between his hands.

“Lou?” he says softly, putting the glass down on the coffee table.

Louis turns around, an eyebrow raised so high it’s almost disappearing into his hairline. He lifts his right hand, waving the paper. “Harry Tomlinson-Styles, you, my own husband, didn’t ‘esitate once before crushing me during that Monopoly game.”

“Oh my god,” Harry says to himself, torn between laughing and face-palming. Why is his husband like this?

Louis doesn’t hear him, or maybe he chooses to ignore him. Instead he continues, voice staggeringly grievous. “Dis is unacceptable, and unda the unfortunate events of tonight, I finn’ myself obliged ta come ta a drastic decision.”

Following his preamble, Louis holds the paper up, showing what it is to Harry.

It’s their fucking marriage certificate.

Harry runs a hand through his hair, biting down on his lips hard.

And then Louis tosses the paper into the fire. The look he gives Harry is deadly solemn. “Good luck trying ta return me without the receipt.”

Harry can’t contain it any longer. “Oh my god, Louis.” His whole body is shaking with laughters, and he really cannot believe what just happened. God, Louis… His husband is truly an idiot. “That’s enough of you silliness for today, all right.”

He takes the few steps keeping him away from his silly husband and cups his cheeks. Louis eyes him tiredly, bottom lip pushed out. It’s time for the love of his life to go to sleep now.

Harry rubs his thumbs against Louis’ smooth skin, smiling at him. He kisses him on the forehead. “Let’s go to bed, yeah?” he murmurs against Louis’ skin.

Louis nods slowly, his hair tickling Harry’s own forehead.

When they’re finally tucked in bed, their bodies laying together, limbs intertwined, Louis’ tranquil figure snuggled close to Harry’s, head on his torso, Harry relaxes — there’s nowhere else he’d rather be.

“You knew that wasn’t the real certificate, right?” Harry asks him softly in the quietness of their bedroom.

Louis hums against his chest, eyes probably closed. “‘Course I did.” His tone is drowsy - the man ready to doze off. Still, he snuggles closer to Harry by tightening his arm around Harry’s waist. “I am the one who insisted on makin’ a copy ta display it on our fire mantel, wasn't I?”

Harry grins into Louis’ hair, inhaling his scent. “True that.”

Louis pats his husband on the chest. “You can’t get rid of me that easily, Harry Tomlinson-Styles.”

“Good.”

**Author's Note:**

> **Once again, Harry Tomlinson is meant to be. But I wrote Tomlinson-Styles in the first part, so I had to do it here, too.**
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> **Thank you for reading.**
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> **Hope you liked it. Go read my other fics. Of course, it's not an order. Just an advice. Please. Pretty please? :D**
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> **Kudos and comments would be much appreciated!**
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> **[Click[here](http://archiveofourown.org/users/larrycaring/pseuds/larrycaring/works) to see and read all my other works!]**
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> **Twitter:**  
> [@larrycaring](https://twitter.com/larrycaring)  
>  **Tumblr:mystupidamours**


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